The Song Has Ended (But the Melody Lingers On)
by Zarabethe
Summary: Thirty-one years ago, a night elf hunter picked up a satchel cursed by a dragon that took her on an epic journey of love, loss, and personal growth. Now, after all this time of domesticated bliss, Zarabethe and Elforen Silverleaf feel the call for one last adventure. But there are already forces moving against them, and not everything has been put to rest as they thought.
1. Summer

**Author's Notes: Welcome one and all to Scepter Two! I am aware the name is long: feel free to shorten it to Lingers in your mind, since that is what I have been doing for close to a year now.**

 **This story will not be as vast as the original Scepter. But unlike all the stories I've written in the meantime, this is a true sequel. This is Zarabethe and Elforen on an epic adventure once again. Writing them feels like coming home: I hope that reading them feels like coming home to you, as well.**

 **For new readers: Scepter is the must to read before this story. All others are nice but not 100% necessary. There will be a few easter eggs and I hope a few surprises along the way as well.**

 **There is cover art on my deviantArt account, zarabethedraws, and there will be chapter illustrations as well along the way. The beginning will be a little sporadic as we finish up Winter's Tale, but I hope we can get going faster as the story progresses.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **This story is set thirty years after the beginning of Scepter.**

* * *

Elwynn Forest, situated directly mid-continent, was one of the few locales on Azeroth to boast four completely different seasons. Fall was decidedly rainy and gloomy, bringing with it the advent of raucous drinking holidays. Winter was cold and icy. Many a Winter Veil was spent among its residents snowed in, fires blazing to keep away the chill. Spring again was rainy like the fall, but also energetic, the promise of new life in its chill mornings and warm afternoons. Summer however, could be unpredictable. Some years it was temperate, with periodic rains and farmers enjoyed a lengthy growing season. Some years however, it felt more like the demon homeworld it was so hot, and everything green dried up and withered away. Unfortunately, this year was one of the latter.

Zarabethe took what felt like the fifteenth break from translating to rub her burning, gritty eyes and wipe the sweat from her forehead. It was so hot that she couldn't concentrate at all during the day and had taken to working after the sun sank below the horizon. She took a minute to pull her hair down and run her fingers through it. It was feeling a little thin lately, and more than once she had almost cut it off: just taken the kitchen shears and started hacking until it no longer bothered her. With a sigh, she began to coil it into a knot on top of her head and pin it into place. She had kept her hair long all her life. Even if she were tempted to take a page from Lorel's book, she thought the dissonance of having a different hairstyle would annoy her for years until it grew back. And to be quite honest, as unhealthy as it had been looking lately, it might not ever get this long again.

Finished with her hair, Zarabethe leaned back in her chair and stretched. The candle flickered from its base with her movement, throwing shadows across the kitchen. The words and symbols from her translating pages spread out on the table seemed to dance in front of her eyes, and she scowled at them crossly. It would make sense, that the last big project she was taking on before they left for their vacation, would be exceptionally difficult. Yes, it was going to pay well, and would go a long way towards funding their trip in the first place. But right now it was doing nothing but giving her a headache.

She refused to admit it, but for a couple years now, it was getting harder for her to concentrate on little things like that. It wasn't that she couldn't see them-it was that when she tried to focus on them the words swam in her vision, and she had to stop and completely take a break, rest her eyes, and try again. It bothered her on a level that was so deep that it was barely formed in her mind. Something that should only haunt her during the blackest part of the night.

Aging.

Like almost every other Kal'dorei she was acquainted with, she had been born during the period of Immortality. She had become accustomed with the idea that her life was her duty, that the ages would stretch on with only studies and defending against the unnatural to keep her company. As she had never intended on taking a mate or even getting close to another, this had always been enough for her. With the loss of immortality and the return of things that she never intended on being cozy with: emotions, fertility and a desire to be around others, the consequences of not being immortal anymore simply faded to the background. Namely, aging and dying.

The truth of it was, she literally had no idea when this would happen. She was 566 years old, merely a sprite compared to the old way of counting. Raene Wolfrunner, one of her closest Kal'dorei friends, was an astounding 10,457 years old, and looked only a bit older than she did. But she had confided in her, the last time they had spoken, that she was getting arthritis in her knees and was considering retiring from the birth compound soon due to mobility issues. The conversation had left her feeling unsettled, but soon there had been nieces and nephews to play with and life in general lifting her up, and she had pushed the thought aside. In fact, she thought she had been hiding it pretty well, but a few months ago her husband had left a pointed flyer on the kitchen table. A pair of gnome brothers had opened up a new-fangled eyeglasses shop in Stormwind, one called Zenni and Pearlen's Hightech Eyewear. At first she had been insulted, then she laughed at it and balled it up to throw it in the trash. She put it out of her mind completely until that evening when she found it again on the table, this time wrinkled from its time spent in the garbage bin. She had gritted her teeth, grabbed the paper, and stalked into the living room, where Elforen was reading over an order list. She stood in front of him, barely able to voice the magnitude of her irritation. He must have surely known both the reason she was standing there, and the source of her foul mood, but he did not lift his eyes from his paper. His patience, as always, exceeded hers, and she shoved the paper into his lap.

"If you are suggesting that I am somehow incapacitated, that I am unable to do something as mundane as use my eyes the same way that I always have, then you are gravely mistaken."

He did raise his eyes to her then, one eyebrow higher than the other and his mouth pressed into a line. He picked up the flyer, smoothed it flat, and put it with the rest of the things he had been working on.

"I was actually going to suggest reading glasses, to ease your headaches during your work, but if you are going to fly off the handle over it, then I guess not."

Zarabethe had felt horribly flustered during the conversation, like she knew that she was over-reacting but at the same time, fully justified in the slight tremble of panic that settled in her stomach at the idea of a visual aid (reading glasses, really, how preposterous) . She crossed her arms and sniffed loudly.

"Well you are right then. That you guess not. Because my vision is perfect."

And she had stomped out of the room, not sure whether she had won the argument or lost it before it even began.

They didn't talk about it again, although Zarabethe knew he kept the flyer. And even though she was insulted, appalled, and dismissed the idea of something so ridiculous as reading glasses completely out of hand, nights like tonight, when her eyes really gave her trouble and she just wanted to be able to read something without it blurring, she wished that she had an option to make her sight better. Growling in frustration, she pushed her chair back, and left off of it for now. It was still impossibly hot, and it was too hard to see by candleight. She wet a washcloth in the sink and pressed it to her eyes, finally feeling some relief as the cool water washed over her face. If she went to bed now, she could get up with the sun, and get everything done well before noon when it was due. And then she would have nothing left to do for the trip except finish packing and going over her gear and purchasing arrows. Which, with the chunk of gold she would be getting with this project, would be no problem.

Unceremoniously stripping off her sweaty clothes on the way to bed but keeping the cool cloth, Zarabethe poked her husband in the side until he grumbled in his sleep and scooted over. She flung herself down on top of the sheets and fell asleep before she could even take up a single worried thought.

* * *

Elforen whistled cheerily as he prodded Emeril home a little faster than his usual amble. He was always happy to be home: he was not one of those detached spouses who stayed at their job longer than was necessary to avoid the mundanity of home life. It was that calmness, the quiet, the time spent with just his wife, that he craved more than anything, even more than the wanderlust that had been itching in the back of his head for over a year now. In fact it was that attachment to peacefulness that had caused them to stay home so long anyway: they were happy here. It was orderly. They had built a far-reaching family that was as close as roughly ten people with different interests and walks of life could be. But lately, with their daughters moving out, growing up, and relatively stable (as stable as Genne could be expected to be, at least) they had both felt that pull to get back into adventuring, at least part time. Elforen would take time out of his regular blacksmithing to update his armor, to try out a slightly new shape of axe, to hone his skill at throwing hatchets. He had caught Zarabethe deep in books of maps instead of her usual history, and her bow had gotten updated recently as well. It was time.

Both of them were no stranger to adventure. They had each, in their own time, spent a considerable amount of time exploring and wandering in their younger years, and so the dilemma of deciding where to spend their vacation was a little more complicated than usual. What part of Azeroth hadn't they thoroughly explored yet? The answer, after much deliberation and weeks of back and forth, was simple: the only place they had never been.

The mists that protected Pandaria for millenia had lifted during the period of time when they were still raising their little girls. They had remarked on it to each other in passing, but in between washing diapers and catching toddlers trying to walk out the front door, it had settled into the back of their minds. Elforen had heard Mae talk excitingly over the southern continent as if it were her own paradise, then heard his brother dismiss it and grudgingly admit its beauty in the same breath. If it were up to Mae, they would probably live there. But it had never really stuck in the back of his mind until one of his customers, a particularly stout dwarf that was good buddies with Hemet Nessingwary (or so he claimed; it was always best to take these statements with a grain of salt and a mug of ale) talked to the whole shop about the mysterious island off the coast of the Pandaria. The dwarf had brought with him a legbone from a bird called a crane, and he wanted it made into a handle for a knife. The bone was nothing Elforen had ever seen before, and he remarked on it as he took the order. The dwarf went on and on about the hunting and the expeditions planned for the island, and a few weeks later even brought him a flyer.

But even all of that might not have convinced him to mention it to Zara except in passing. As he glanced over the flyer, it boasted its manned hunting expeditions and curiously replenishable game all over it, but the real reason the safaris were manned is because the island was so large and so dense in foliage, that it had never been fully explored. There were miles and miles of uncharted wilderness, and literally no one knew what was in it. He didn't even have to convince Zara-he handed her the flyer, and as soon as she read that part she pointed it out to him and nodded her head. This would be a vacation, an adventure, a hunting expedition: even if they found nothing more interesting than a bunch of old rocks, they would still be going places that no one had ever been before. It was perfect.

Now here they were: boat tickets had been purchased. Money had been saved up. Supplies had been gathered, weapons and armor had gotten a reboot, or in the case of Zara's, been completely purchased new. Brekke was going to come stay and take care of the animals, and Genne would be joining her at some point. Two whole months, completely free.

Emeril pulled into the gate at the back end of the property, and Elforen jumped off to secure the latch. He remained on his feet as he unhitched the cart and led the horse to the stables. He had no projects to bring home today. He had secured extra help in the Goldshire shop for two months and taken on no big projects for that time, only repairs and existing projects. Zarabethe had gotten extra food for the animals and cleaned all their enclosures so Brekke didn't have to worry about it. Everything was in good repair and all bills had been paid in advance.

As Elforen brushed out Emeril and got him settled in his stall, he felt a pair of eyes of him. He rustled around in the hay on the floor of the stable without turning around and located a red hard rubber ball. He turned and threw it in one motion, and he was rewarded by a scrape and scramble of claws as Dagra, the biggest nightsabre in their possession, took after the ball from where he had been perched on the rafters. Elforen chuckled out loud as the sleek and proud nightsabre batted the ball around like a kitten, until finally catching it in his massive teeth and trotting up to him like a puppy. Elforen held out his hand, and Dagra gave him the drool-covered ball without so much as a scrape of teeth. Zarabethe had done very well with him: he was tame and obedient, although still feisty and liked to play. He was clever and responded well to commands. His siblings were well on the way to joining his level of training: Asa was sleeker and leaner than her brother, but sometimes would get an attitude and refused to cooperate. Soren was smaller and more rambunctious. Lyra, despite her name, was not as graceful as the others, although she liked to make noise as if she were actually responding to instructions. All four of them had kept his wife busy and himself much entertained in evenings, when they were all let out to play. The four of them also seemed to ease the silent hole that existed between the two of them: the one that ached every time they had a new niece or nephew born.

Not that they were not thrilled with the expansion of their family. Elforen in particular, enjoyed seeing Kalibose care about someone other than himself for once, and got a particular pleasure out of seeing him change diapers or get spit up on, and take it in stride. And night elves in general, did not have a lot of children or a lot of children close together. If this were several hundred years ago, several thousand years ago, they wouldn't even be thinking of having another yet. But the notion that the option had been taken away from them was worse than anything else. Their family was happy, their living children were doing well, and they had much to be thankful for. There was no reason to not be content, except that the choice had been made for them, and not together.

So if Zarabethe spent long hours with the cubs when there were other things around the house to be done, he didn't fuss. If he chose to spend an afternoon playing with them instead of catching up on work, he didn't feel guilty about it.

Night elves lived a long time, and sometimes that meant getting over a loss took a long time as well.

Elforen literally had the thoughts shook from his head as the other three sabres, who had been lounging outside, came bounding in to play as well. Lyra rubbed up against his legs like a housecat, nearly knocking him over, Asa bumped her head against the hand holding the ball, and Soren threw restraint aside and stood his full height, putting his great paws almost on his shoulders and worrying his head against his chest. Elforen lost his balance with a cry, and it was several minutes before he could extricate himself from their affection.

"Elune above," he laughed breathlessly as he finally got to his feet. "You four are a menace. Go find Zara, leave me alone."

He waded through their furry enthusiasm, and they finally got the hint, bounding out of the stable before him. He shook his head as he watched them disappear in four different directions, after taking a few swats at each other for good measure. It was a good thing that Brekke had grown up around animals: she was going to have her hands full with them over the next two months.

Elforen went back to making his lists in his head as he strolled to his shop. All of his armor had already been revamped, but there were a few weapons that he wanted to check the sharpness of, and there was a handle on an axe that needed looking at. Well before he reached the building, he heard the familiar zwip-thunk as his wife practiced her archery. The sound brought a smile to his face as he detoured around the side of the smithy to watch her. There had been many things about her lately that had worried him: how she seemed to have more and more trouble seeing small print on pages, how she seemed to be restless a lot, and how she would get headaches more often. But this right here, was her element. Watching her pull an arrow and hit the target square in the middle, reminded him of just how lethal she could be. Her movements were sinuous and sure, and there was not even a moment of squinting or hesitation. She hit three targets in a row, and he was just turning to leave when he saw the midnight blue bounding figures of the nightsabres. He waiting, watching them as they approached Zarabethe. She didn't turn to look at them, but made a tiny hissing noise through her teeth. Immediately they lined up to the side of her, sitting at attention and waiting for her to shoot two more times, before she lowered her bow and turned to them. Only then did they leave the quiet stance they were in to greet her enthusiastically. She praised them and scratched their ears, and Elforen nodded to himself as he turned back to his shop. As much as they could act like giant kittens, their training was coming along nicely. He would leave their care to her, and as for him, he had weapons to attend. After all, they only had a few more days until they left.

Everything was ready except for last minute details. Both he and Zarabethe had been working to get back in shape. Their weapons and armor had been updated, and plans had been made for everything at home. He wondered to himself, quietly enough he barely acknowledged it, why he had this trickle of anticipation at the journey ahead of them. Pushing the thought aside as ridiculous, he got to work.


	2. Sea Voyage

**Author's Notes: Writing these scenes almost gave me diabetes, you guys. Illustration up on dA.**

 **Review Replies: Why Den, how could you think that I would go so far as to kill off-actually I'm not even going to finish that because its too much of a lie. You know how horrible I am.**

 **Ihsan: this has only been what, a year in the planning? Aging in night elves is something that you've tackled head-on, but this is something that is new for me and a little depressing. Who wants to contemplate their mortality? Makes for good story fodder though.**

* * *

It was of Zarabethe's opinion, as they approached the southern continent far quicker than the lazy waves that stretched out forever in either direction would indicate, that the ocean in between Elwynn Forest and Pandaria was the most beautiful color of green-blue that she had ever seen. It was clean and deep, and so immense that she felt it easy to imagine that land was just a myth, and the ship they were on was the entire population of the planet.

No matter the color, beauty, or peacefulness of the water though, the most amazing part of the trip so far was just her ability to sail and not be miserable while doing so. Her violent seasickness had lingered for literally years after her pregnancies. Most of the years since her loss of immortality had been spent with it, and the fact that she could climb up the rigging, run across the deck, hang out in the very front, sides, or back of the ship with no twinge in her stomach was something she never planned on taking for granted again. Before the Scepter, she had loved to sail. Now that her motion sickness seemed to be truly gone, she was ready to enjoy it again.

At this moment she was crouched up on the railing in the very front, the curved point at the bow of the ship. Her boots were tucked just under the lip of the rail, and her fingers gripped the smooth wood until her nails dug in. The wind blew her hair streaming behind her almost in a straight purple line: she had loosened it just to feel the sensation. The sun reflecting off the water hurt her eyes with its intensity, but it was worth the mild discomfort. The view was absolutely magnificent.

Even with the roaring wind, the slapping waves, and the sounds of sailing assaulting her sensitive ears, she still sensed her husband approach behind her, and didn't flinch at all when he leaned up on the rail beside her.

"I should have known you'd be out here. I don't think you've gone below deck since we left harbour."

He rested an arm around her waist, and she was starkly reminded of a different touch, one made in the darkest part of the morning earlier in the day. A not-unpleasant flush lit up her cheeks and she leaned over to speak quietly in his ear.

"If I haven't gone below deck, then who was that woman you ravished this morning?"

Elforen laughed deep in his chest, and turned around so that he could see her face. With her crouched on the railing like she was, his eyes were level with her shoulders, and she put first one foot down, and then the other, so that they were more even. He came right up in her space and put a hand on either hip. No matter the smell of salt and fresh water, no matter the gently rolling floor under her feet, instantly she was transported home. No matter where she was, her safe place was right here with her. She leaned her forehead against his and wrapped her arms around his wide back. How incredible it was to be on a boat and feel no nausea, and to be held intimately by someone and feel no anxiety.

"You know," he began and his breath ruffled wisps of hair against her cheeks, "she did have your coloring."

She snorted with laughter in spite of herself, and moved her head so that she could snuggle up flush with him. He slid one arm around her back and the other up to smooth her wind-tossled hair.

"Same pretty eyes, same wild hair." He accented the statement with a gentle tug of her hair, and she sucked a breath in before giggling and pushing him away.

"And that is exactly how we got going this morning. No more of that, Mister Silverleaf, we are in public."

He laughed out loud this time, and acquiesced by letting go of her and putting some space in between them. He leaned casually against the bow of the ship, sure-footed even as the ground bucked underneath them. The ship breasted the enthusiastic wave with no trouble, and they were back to smooth movement that barely belied they were in water. The trip thus far had been amazing: back home in Elwynn it was hotter than an oven, but on the boat in the evenings she had to put on a long-sleeved shirt against the water-chilled air. She had heard tales that Pandaria was similar: near the coast was amazingly temperate all year round, and only up near the enormous Kun-Lai mountain ridge did it ever get snow or a cold winter. The island that was their ultimate destination seemed to be the same temperature year-round: which fit in with the temporal anomaly that it existed in. Zarabethe felt a twinge of burning anticipation in the pit of her stomach: she was so excited to explore this place that was such a mystery, that she could hardly stand it. She had almost wanted to port directly there: but then she would have missed the beautiful boat ride.

"I did actually come to find you for a reason other than outrageous flirting."

She turned to look at her husband. He was leaning into the wind coming off the water and his white hair blew back behind him. For a moment she was taken back: more than thirty years ago, they were together on a boat that took them from Stormwind to the deserts of Tanaris, starting a journey that would change them both so much more than they had ever anticipated. It was on that boat that Elforen had bared his soul to her, told her about his family situation, and how he wanted to rise above it. It was on that trip that she had looked at him with new eyes, and perhaps first got the idea that she wanted to be around him more than just as a fellow war veteran from Northrend.

His hair was longer. He tended to wear more a beard than a scruff now, and his hands were more often stained with ash from blacksmithing than not. His face was still the same: although now she could not look on it without also seeing all the tender looks he had given over the years to their daughters, or the mischievous sparkle he got when he teased any of them, or the pride that glowed from within when he would be around either of his siblings. It might not show on his face or his movements, but his soul had aged over the last thirty years, and in all ways, he had changed for the better. Zarabethe wondered abruptly if he was feeling any of the issues from aging that she had been lately. He had never mentioned it; but again, it wasn't in his nature to complain. She caught a little bit of that mischievousness when he turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Someone is very miserable down in the hold."

Zarabethe groaned and put her face in her hands.

"What am I going to do with that cat? He's like a toddler."

"Remember Zar didn't like to ride in boats either. They can't all have natural sea-legs like Spook."

Zarabethe gave her husband a resigned look. "Is he being very loud?"

The cringe on his face told her all she needed to know. "He's whining quite a bit."

She sighed and pushed away from the railing and her view of the ocean. "I will go spend some time with him. We only have another day, right?"

Elforen nodded as he stood to walk with her. "I think so. I'm going to have a talk with the captain. Meet you for lunch?"

She waved to him as she started down below decks. She had gone back and forth about bringing one of the sabres with them: she was not used to traveling great distances without some sort of animal companion. She had Elf with her of course, but pets could not be matched in usefulness. Dagra was the furthest along in training: she wouldn't dare take him on a dangerous quest or to war, but he would do for an exploration trip. That was part of the reason for taking him, she had argued with herself as she packed things for him alongside her own. This would be the perfect opportunity to train him out in the open and get a feel for how he did in real situations.

Lesson one learned: he didn't like to be alone.

Since they were technically going to Pandaria as tourists, they booked tickets on a high-profile passenger ship instead of the smaller carriers that they usually preferred for quests. They would have a real room, and actual meals, and they didn't have to barter working on the ship for passage. But since Dagra was not a licensed hunter pet, he had to stay in the pet cages in the hold. It was not a bad cage: room enough to move and fresh hay and food to eat, but he hated it. Zarabethe had already spent half the voyage below decks with him, despite her husband's comment, and the first night she had to sleep outside his cage.

Their next journey, they were either going to take a portal or she was taking a different pet.

She heard him well before she got to the door of the hold. She had thought that Lyra was loud: she was a talker, always making noises and answering back to commands as if she spoke Darnassian. But Dagra, when he was miserable, was LOUD. He whined and groaned high-pitched in the back of his throat until it sounded like his heart would break.

Zarabethe made her way past several other pets in various stages of sleep or boredom: two wolves, a tiger, a large land turtle, and finally made it to Dagra's cage. He whined another time, then looked up at her with big, soulful eyes. She sighed as she sat down cross-legged outside the cage.

"You big baby. What am I going to do with you?"

She unlatched the cage and he pushed his way through until his head was in her lap. The dark atmosphere was easier on her eyes down here, and she leaned against the cage and relaxed as she petted his dark fur. Unlike the invigorating air outside, the dank darkness down here was quiet, and it made her sleepy. Dagra rumbled in his throat, almost a purr, and she smiled as she allowed herself to sink a little further into the quiet. He really was a good cat. He just needed to grow up a little.

The rolling movement of the boat around them lulled her into a place of almost napping. This trip would be good for him. It would be good for all three of them. Dagra would get some experience, she and Elf would do some exploring, and return home with stories and artifacts. With that on her mind, she drifted off to sleep, her pet next to her.

* * *

"You know," Elforen whispered in his wife's ear confidentially as they wound their way slowly from the crowded pier into the port town, "I didn't expect them to be so tall."

His wife's face was full of concentration as she tried to navigate the sudden influx of people while carrying her bags and keeping a firm grip on Dagra's collar, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Dearest, everyone's taller than you."

Elforen put on an offended face and prepared a smart remark, but was nearly bowled over by a trio of pandaren cubs. They crashed into him, intent on chasing their ball, and when he let out a surprised shout and turned to them, they all froze in terror. He instantly felt bad: they were just kids, and although it had been years since there was war in Pandaria, they obviously had a healthy intimidation for a person in armor. He crouched down to their level and lowered his voice.

"Don't worry about it guys, accidents happen." He reached over and picked up their errant ball. "What are you playing?"

The tallest cub, braver than the rest, stepped forward and reached for the ball. "Sorry sir. We was playing mantid ball."

"So who's winning?"

He nodded to each of the cubs in turn, the tallest boy, a younger boy, and girl that looked exactly in the middle. The smallest cub pointed to himself enthusiastically.

"I am!" In a move that belied his age, he knocked the ball out of the older one's hand and ran after it. The others took off after him with a shout, and Elforen chuckled to himself as he regained his feet. He pointed over his shoulder as he met his wife, who had stopped to watch the altercation.

"They aren't taller than me."

Dagra wiggled in anticipation as he watched the cubs peel away into the crowd, and Zarabethe gripped his collar a little tighter, but Elforen still heard her laughter as they once again turned back to the port city.

Paw'Don Village had been nothing more than a fishing settlement before the arrival of the Alliance twenty-five years ago, but since trade had opened up between their cultures and tourism was encouraged, the city had bloomed into the bustling port that it was today. There were vendors hawking wares literally every direction that you turned, and the air was ripe with the smells of amazing food and good beer. Unlike his brother, Elforen had never been plagued with seasickness, and he was starving. He couldn't decide what he wanted to try first, but everything smelled wonderful. Beside him, Zarabethe took a deep breath and sighed.

"By Elune I'm so hungry. I could eat one of everything."

"I guess Kalibose wasn't exaggerating then." His brother might have been full of sarcasm for everything in Pandaria, but his enthusiasm for the food had never been tempered with his attitude. Elforen glanced around the vendors, but it was hard to tell exactly what they were cooking. He nudged Zara in the shoulder.

"Since you're not sick this time, feeling adventurous?"

Her eyes flashed as she surveyed the area around them. "Bring it on, warrior. Your choice. "

"Alright then." He closed his eyes, and pointed in two directions at random. He opened them and indicated with first his left hand, then his right. "You take that red-roofed place, I will take the one with pandaren in the blue shirt. Order something you've never had before, then I'll meet you at the first table over there. "

With a flash of her vivid purple hair, she was gone. Elforen had only taken two steps to his destination, however, when he felt a tug at the back of chainmail shirt. Thinking it was caught on something, he was startled to see the same small pandaren girl that he had run into before. She was wearing a pink flowered kimono and her hair was done up in tiny bobbing pigtails. Her voice was so quiet he had to crouch down to hear her.

"Ethcuse me."

"Yes, sweetheart?" She was clutching a handful of scraggly flowers in her hands, obviously picked from the side of the road. She held one out to him shyly.

"Your hair ith tho pretty. I got you flower for it."

"Pei Li! No!" The tallest cub from earlier came out of the crowd like some sort of ghost and made a grab for the girl. She struggled against him as he tried to drag her away.

"Sorry for my sister, sir, I tried to tell her no, but she wouldn't listen."

"Let go me, Ping!"

"No, no, it's okay. Pei Li, is it?" He held out his hand for her to shake. She got loose of her brother with an indignant noise and cradled her flowers closer to her chest. She sniffed loudly as she inspected the bouquet, which was a little more worn looking from the altercation.

"You bent my flowerth, you jerk."

Elforen tried in vain to stifle a chuckle as dipped his head down, like a prince accepting his crown. "You can put a flower in my hair if you want."

He held very still as she reached up on her tiptoes and tucked a bedraggled lotus flower behind his ear. The pandaren cub beamed with pride afterward and any thoughts he had about taking the flower out as soon as possible disappeared from his head. She put the remaining flowers in her own hair.

"There, we match."

"Okay, you're done, let's go, Mom's waiting." Ping grabbed his sister's hand and with another exasperated apology, drug Pei Li away. She waved at him until they left sight, and Elforen couldn't keep the grin off his face as he got to his feet and hurried to find the food vendor he had gotten distracted from.

Zarabethe lifted her eyes as he sat down opposite her, then, did a double take. A slow grin spread across her face.

"If I had known this was a formal dinner, I would have worn something nicer."

"Shut it."

He did not take the flower out though, as he sorted out the food items in front of him.

"What did you end up with?"

She poked at the fried meat that took up the largest place on her plate. "You would send me to a specialty seafood place. I'm pretty sure this is fried squid, which isn't that bad if you pretend you don't know what it looks like alive. The rice is amazing, and I'm not sure what kind of vegetable this is?"

He regarded the the fibrous pale yellow food, then stabbed a piece of it and chewed thoughtfully. It was a little bland, mostly holding the flavor of the butter and spice it was cooked with.

"Bamboo maybe?"

"That sounds right. How about you?"

"I got lucky." He pushed the bowls to the middle of the table. "I found eggrolls, although I'm not sure what's in them, and several different kinds of noodles. That one," he pointed to the noodles that were stained red, " is supposed to be really spicy."

"We'll see about that." With gusto, she dug into them.

They went back and forth, sharing their food and trying out all the different things. There was something crunchy in the eggrolls that made Zara gag, and she let out a belly laugh when his face turned red at the spicy noodles. He hadn't enjoyed a meal this much in a long time, he realized as he wiped sweat off his brow. Zarabethe especially seemed almost a different person: she was joking and engaging and enthusiastic about everything. There was no trace of lingering sadness or feeling of looking ill that she usually showed. _Maybe they just needed to get away for awhile_ , he thought as he stole the last piece of calamari and got a sound kick for it. Maybe stagnation was what was wearing her down.

Their meal eventually turned into a throwing match, with napkins and bits of food and even the silverware being appropriated as projectiles. Elforen laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair as a noodle stuck to the center of Zara's forehead and stayed no matter how she shook her head. He made a vow, in between fighting for table dominance, to take vacations more often, every other month if possible. This was the Zarabethe that he had fallen in love with so fiercely, and he wanted to see this side of her more often.

Their fun was interrupting by a surly looking pandaren man who thrust a broom in their direction and mumbled at them in his own language as they cleaned up their mess. He caught Zarabethe's eye and winked and she tried to stifle a giggle. No more stagnation for them.

Time to live life again.


	3. Timeless Isle

**Author's Notes: Timeless Isle was the last patch of the Mists of Pandaria expansion, and IRL Elforen and I spent so much time there that I have most of the achievements from it. I am taking a little creative license with it for the story, but going to it in game would be a good reference point while reading. The biggest changes I am making are expanding the Celestial Court, and making the center of it a temple, rather than an arena.**

 **review replies: Ihsan: most of this was answered in PM but for everyone else: more on Zara's condition will be revealed as we go on. I wanted to show more that they were dipping into mainstream life. I'm sure Azeroth isn't made up solely of adventurers and pirates and military people: there are families and people that go on vacation and mundanities of life as well.**

 **Astrid: I will definitely be dipping into the changes Pandaria has gone through in future chapters. Suffice it to say, they will not be spending their time only on the Isle.**

* * *

"You know I am not much of a shopper," Zarabethe leaned over so Elforen could hear her in the din of the crowd around them, "but it is killing me to have to wait to buy souvenirs until we get back from the island."

She spotted what had to be the fifth kimono vendor in the same boardwalk they were traversing to make it to their boat on time. She grabbed Elf's arm excitedly as she saw one in miniature, so small it looked like it would fit a doll. It was white with delicate pink roses outlined in black and she made a noise that she was sure she should be ashamed of.

"Look! I have to remember to get one of those for Lorel!"

To his credit, he looked where she pointed, just like he had the last seven times.

"It's a little small for her, don't you think?"

Zarabethe punched him in the shoulder, nearly losing her hold on Dagra as she did.

"Not her, you oaf, the baby. She'd love it."

They were both forced to stop as the crowd became an immovable mass. There was an abnormal amount of people heading to the docks today. Apparently they were not the only ones escaping the heat of the upper continents of Azeroth; she saw more than one group of humans and dwarves, gnomes, even some blood elves and trolls. There was even what appeared to be a group of vacationing goblin death Knights, their bright colored Polo shirts and khaki shorts at humorous odds with their glowing ice blue eyes and the aura of cold that seemed to follow them everywhere. They'd already been in line an hour, and seeing all the souvenir stands right next to them, and not being allowed to buy anything was killing her.

"Even so, she just found out. She won't even have the baby at Winter's Veil. Which ought to make for an interesting holiday," she barely heard him add under his breath. Remembering the horrific fight she got into with Kalibose during her pregnancy with Zane, she tended to share his opinion. Dagra chose that time to pull to the right, and she reprimanded him sharply.

"Heel, Dagra! Honestly, I'm never taking you on vacation again." Elforen chuckled beside her, but she wasn't really kidding. Taking a pet so early into their training on a crowded journey was something she was quickly regretting. And if she was being honest with herself, it was a mistake that she wouldn't have made so readily if she were younger. Was she that lonely, that she had to have an animal with her even if it was a hazard to the rest of the trip. It was a sobering thought as the crowd lurched forward again. A boat up ahead of them, far smaller than the one they came in on, was filling up fast. It was the first in a line of smaller passenger boats bound for the Timeless Isle.

After an afternoon of stretching their legs and a night's rest in a balmy open-air inn, they were preparing for the last leg of their journey. After the week at sea to get to the southern continent, four hours by boat to the mysterious safari island would be a breeze. That is, if they made it to their dock on time. Following the advice of the innkeeper to arrive two hours early seemed to be their only lifesaver as they shuffled forward again.

They made it several yards this time, past an egg roll vendor and to the left onto another boardwalk. Once again they were pulled to a halt by the stagnant crowd, but there was more room here, and people did not immediately fill in the space as before. The first boat was full, preparing to leave port, and with it a chunk of the crowd.

"What ship are we booked on?" Elforen shaded his eyes as he strained to see the names of the boats in the too-bright morning sunlight. Zarabethe was already distracted by the next kimono vendor. This one was silk: extravagant but so vibrant in the light filtering down through the wispy clouds that the expense would be worth it.

" _The Rose Petal_. Are you sure I can't smuggle just one present in my bags to the Timeless Isle?"

Elforen dropped his hand, and although they'd been joking around all day, his next statement was more toward the serious side of the spectrum as he peered into her face.

"Are you sure I didn't leave the real Zarabethe at home, and this isn't some changeling in her place?"

She wasn't sure what to say to that; even she felt that this was not at all like her usual pragmatic self. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the trip. Perhaps it was how the fresh sea air was working into her lungs and made her feel like she could take on the entire continent with just her bow, her husband, and her cunning. She moved with the crowd, whistling low at Dagra under her breath, as the mass surged forward again. She kept her eyes focused on the sea as she spoke.

"She was just so excited about it, you know? It's hard to not be excited as well."

Elforen gripped her shoulder briefly, but his reply was cut off as the crowd finally parted enough in front of them to make some real headway to their destination. Their ship was easy to pick out by the ornate rose design painted on the sail, and all talk was abandoned as they hurried to get a good spot.

Their passenger ship to Pandaria had departed in the evening from Stormwind Harbour. After leaving the keys to their house with Brekke and making one last round of the grounds, they had left early to pick up some last minute things. Dagra had been a peach in town, of course: he was used to Stormwind and she hadn't even had to hold on to him as they visited a few specialty shops in the marketplace. Zarabethe was waiting outside the general goods store for Elforen, keeping an eye on the nightsabre, when a large stormcrow nearly bowled into her. She ducked, letting out a curse, and the bird caught herself, and instead landed on a post right beside her. Before Zarabethe could do much more than take a startled step backward, the stormcrow melted into the form of her sister in law, still perched perfectly on top of the post, holding her sides with laughter.

"Zara, your face!"

"Lorel!" she stuttered indignantly as Lorel hopped delicately to the ground, still giggling.

"Oh that was funny. I'm going to tell Zane all about it when I get home."

The petite night elf bent over and scrubbed Dagra affectionately behind his ears. "So you guys all ready to go?"

"Yes, we leave in a couple hours. How did you know?" Her indignation made her blunt, and she realized how rude she sounded at the last moment. Lorel brushed it off with a careless wave.

"I heard it from Brek. Had to chase her down all the way to your house. Which was no problem for my tracking nose, of course." She paused and tapped her finger against her chin. "Although I'm pretty sure I scared a group of tourists from Darkshire. You'd think they'd never seen a four foot tall cat slinking through town before."

"Who are you terrorizing now?"

Elforen emerged from the general store with a bag slung over his arm and shading his eyes from the afternoon sunlight.

"Just a few gnomes and humans. Small children. The usual."

He snorted, packing his purchases into his bags that Zarabethe had been guarding. "What are you doing in Stormwind anyway? Don't you have a house, a job, a life?"

"Visiting your daughter."

The shit-eating grin on Lorel's face was too suspicious to not press further. "...for?"

"Can't I visit my favorite niece without an inquisition?"

"You? No." Elforen's dry remark made Zarabethe giggle. Lorel's grin got bigger.

"And checking in on your niece."

Elforen looked up in concern. "What's wrong with Amaryssa?"

Zarabethe was already ahead of him. She moved to touch Lorel's stomach, then held back. "You?"

Lorel nodded her head and to her surprise, jumped into Zarabethe's arms to hug her. "Yes, me! I can't believe I didn't realize until this morning, I've been pregnant for weeks already. It's a little girl this time, and Tzun doesn't get to hide that away either. I'm going to tell everyone."

Zarabethe hugged her back awkwardly, surprised at her enthusiasm. Elforen put an arm around them both briefly. "Does Tzun know yet?"

Lorel finally let her go and Zarabethe let out a breath. "Not yet. I'm telling him tonight. He's going be so thrilled!" She looked around as if she just now realized the time. "Which reminds me, I have some shopping to do. See you after your trip!"

With a puff of smoke and a stray feather, she was transformed and airborne.

Elforen shaded his eyes as he watched her form wheel out of sight. "Well, that was unexpected," he said half to himself as he hefted his bags up onto his shoulder. Zarabethe had barely caught the bag he threw her way as he started his way out to the harbour.

The news had startled Zarabethe more than she cared to admit on the voyage here. Especially with Lorel's staunch refusal to even consider the subject of more children, she had been so inordinately happy that Zarabethe had already planned to do quite a bit of spoiling. It was her duty and obligation as the eldest aunt and semi-matriarch of their little tribe, anyway. With all the exotic vendors and tradesfolk in Pandaria, she was eager to get started. They had agreed, before they even departed the ship, to keep their shopping until the end of the trip. They were still spending six weeks on the Timeless Island backpacking and roughing it, and not only would souvenirs get in the way, they would likely become broken and lost. Zarabethe felt dangerously close to sulking as they handed their tickets over to the harried looking pandaren man and boarded their transport. Too late now, either way. And it wasn't as if they wouldn't have time when they got back to civilization, anyway.

Getting settled into the crowded transport ship and fighting for an area to store their bags took the greater part of an hour, and by the time she and Elforen met at the front deck, she was less grumpy about leaving the mainland behind and more grumpy about people in general.

"I am so glad," she stated without preamble the moment she saw him leaning against the main mast having a conversation with a sailor, "that we are going to an island where we will be lost in the wilderness for the greater part of six weeks. Because if I have to argue over basic amenities with another mouth breathing tourist, I am going to murder someone."

Both Elforen and the pandaren sailor burst into laughter. The pandaren shook hands with Elforen and nodded to her as he returned to his duties, and her husband could barely keep his amusement in check as he regarded her.

"There's the Zarabethe I know and love. I guess I didn't lose you somewhere on the mainland after all."

"No such luck."

She joined him at the mast, feeling still trapped by too many people. Although there were less tourists above deck than below, the ones above were being loud and irritating. Dagra had been put below partly because with how her mood was at the moment, she was afraid he would see some of these people as a threat. Although at the moment, she would consider it a favor to the world. She scowled grumpily at a human group, possibly a family, who were all leaning over the side too far and exclaiming loudly over every wave.

"I hope they fall over."

Elforen chuckled again and took her hand. "Come on, let's find somewhere a little more reclusive."

It took some searching, and a little bit of climbing, but they finally finagled their way up into the rigging and to a spot where they could watch the sun reflect off the ocean. The view was magnificent, the noise of the crowd faded into the background and the air off the ocean refreshed her mind. They spent most of the rest of the journey in silence, just appreciating the view of a place they had never seen before, and Zarabethe felt much more refreshed by the time they haggled their way through baggage claims and stood in line to take a small skiff to the Timeless Island.

They had seen the evidence of it far before its outline became visible against the horizon. The ocean had seemed to grow flat and nondescript, but the wind was constant, a warm push that felt almost like the beginnings of a whirlpool. The ride was steady, but they picked up pace as they drew nearer their destination, and by the time Zarabethe realized the hazy smudge against the horizon was actually the island, they were flying along at a breakneck speed. She squinted her eyes at it, trying in vain to discern its features, but it had the eerie look that it wasn't quite there at all, and only seen through a bubble into another world. It was a smeared piece of the ocean one moment, then suddenly it was fully in view, as if they had finally broken through the membrane that kept it hidden from view. Zarabethe gasped, and beside her she could see Elforen lean back as well. The wind dropped off abruptly and the transport started to slow down, but her eyes were only on the area around them. The ocean was still flat, although she could see evidence of marine life, some of it very large, in the shadows of the reefs. The island itself was a clustered mass of living vegetation: it was so green and lush it felt she could almost _hear_ the trees and bushes growing. There were different elevations, a kind of broken up mountainous ridge at the far back of it, and something huge flying around the top of it. No, several somethings: there were wind serpents nesting in the highest peaks of the rocky crags, and even from here, she could see the red and gold glint of their scales. The entire island was far smaller than she thought, but the more she focused on an area, the more details came to her vision, the more of it was revealed, so that she had the disturbing notion that the island only _appeared_ small, but it was instead so vast that one might never reach the hidden depths of rustling, vibrant green.

Even the sky above them seemed changed: they had left port in the bluest of skies that could only exist over an ocean in the late summer, and although the center of the sky was blue, the edges of it looked curved, fading into almost an amber-yellow, perpetuating the feeling of being inside a bubble. Zarabethe was both incredibly intrigued and a little disturbed by the time it was their turn to take the skiff to land. She held on tight to Dagra's collar, but for once he didn't try to poke his head overboard or get up close and friendly with the other people on board. He sunk down into a crouch at the bottom of the boat and looked as if he wished he were any place else. Once they reached the beach, it took several seconds of coaxing, firm commands, and exasperated pleading to get him to move at all. She practically pulled him out of the boat with her, and so when she stepped foot onto the strangely iridescent amber sand of the beach, she was completely unprepared for what happened next.

A jolt went through her like electricity, leaving numbness in its wake, from the bottom of her foot where it contacted the ground, up her legs, pulsing painfully in her middle, before spreading to her arms, flaring angrily at the large scar on her shoulder, before getting inside her head and turning her vision sickly yellow. She had no idea how long it lasted: she felt as if it took its time to slowly torture her, but by the time her vision returned she had only had enough time to take a stumbling step forward and breathe out harshly. She dropped both Dagra's collar and her bags on the ground, but it felt like a reflex: the sensation was fading so rapidly she was starting to wonder if she had only imagined it. She took a breath, sucking in air as if through a straw, then another, and by the time Elforen had finished speaking to the tour guides that were gathering up the visitors to take them to the main pavilion and was heading her way, she was breathing normally and had started to pick up her things again.

"They are bringing everyone to the Celestial Court first by wagon, then-"

He paused, and even through her best efforts to put herself back together, he looked concerned.

"What happened? You look a little pale."

She shook her head. Her vision remained fine, and as she took a step forward, there was no trace of the strange sensation of earlier. It was quite possible she had imagined the entire thing.

"I just took a bad step. I'm fine."

He didn't look like he believed her, but he continued speaking, handing her a flyer. "They are taking everyone to the Celestial Court first. We should probably ride along, as that's the only place to get supplies." He directed her to unfold the flyer, which revealed a map of the island. Again, she was struck by the idea that there was much, much more to the island than what was shown. The tours, as they were mapped out, skirted around the majority of the mountainous region and barely penetrated into the dense jungle that surrounded it. There were some ruins mapped out in the middle and on an elevated ridge at the far east side of the island, with a hesitant sketch of a humanoid with horns and a large flat nose up on the rising hills. Elforen pointed to a rectangular area in the center of the western half of the island.

"Here is the Celestial Court. All guided tours leave from there, and there are supplies and some housing available. If you end up leaving out on your own, they suggest you head northeast from there, around the lake. "

Elforen's tone turned mischievous as he drug his finger down the longest side of the rectangle to the far southeast corner. "Of course, we are not planning on following the given path, so I thought we'd try here first. "

Zarabethe glanced up across the island and tried to pinpoint the direction he was indicating. Her instinctual ability to tell direction was going haywire here. It was a good thing she had decided to throw a compass in her pack at the last moment. She nodded slowly to herself as she started to match the terrain with the map: peaks of wind serpent nests, ruins with tauren-like creatures, and a kind of ancient fishing village in the far south that looked as out of place on the secluded island as she felt. There was so much to see here, even without the feeling that there were places that weren't mapped out at all, she was glad they had almost six weeks to explore.

"That sounds like a plan." The skiff arrived on shore again, bringing with it the last set of passengers. Stuffing the flyer into her pack, they both hurried to the wagons to get a spot before they filled up.

* * *

The thing that struck Elforen the most about the island as he got an eyeful of it through the wagon windows was how populated it was. He blamed some of it on how scattered the trees were on this side of the Celestial Court: it was easier to see through them, so it was obvious that he would see more animals. But this seemed ridiculously excessive: in every direction he looked there was a crane, an irontusk, or a tiger, and almost every time, an adventurer right behind them with a weapon. If he wasn't seeing it partially through the sparse vegetation, the carnage might have been a bit disturbing. as it was, there seemed to be an endless number of creatures, an endless number of hunters, and the no one else seemed to think it odd. he snuck a glance over at his wife: Dagra seemed to be trying to smell in every direction at once, and she was preoccupiedwith that, but there was no trace of her earlier expression. The wagon hit a bump, and Elforen got a tighter grip on his pack. he tried to put the idea out of his mind, but he could have sworn when he had met her eyes straight off the boat, they had seemed to glow _bronze_.

Without thinking about it, he glanced her way again. She was peering out the window, but sensing his gaze, turned to meet his eyes. He smiled at her, and her eyes were so perfectly normal, and her expression excited, that he put the thought out of his head immediately.

Besides, it was impossible. Zarabethe had been cleansed from the dragon's curse more than thirty years ago. !t had to have been just a figment of his imagination. As if to reassure himself, he reached across the wagon and took her hand. He normally would not surprise her like that: even now, years after she had begun to trust him enough to allow his touch, he usually would let her see the action instead of forcing it on her. But all of a sudden he needed the solidity of her hand in his, feeling her heartbeat flutter under her skin, her warmth reminding him of how alive they were and how much it meant for them to be together in this moment. He felt her tense, then she squeezed his hand back, and did not withdraw as the wagon shuffled it's way slowly along the road to the Celestial Court.

Less than an hour later, it finally pulled to a creaking halt. Both he and Zarabethe popped up immediately and even though they were laden down with more gear and packs than the other passengers, they were the first out the door. Dagra seemed more reserved than he had been the entire trip: he stayed mostly pressed to Zarabethe's legs as they strode forward to the group of shops and vendors that decorated the outside borders of the only place that represented civilization on the entire island. Elforen took in the view of it clinically: surrounded as they were by vibrant vegetation in an area that they had never been in before, his warrior instincts were beginning to kick in. The swooping lines of the arches around the temple that contained the Celestial Court should, by all rights, be visible from most high points on the island. It was bright gold and red in a sea of veridian and blue: if, Elune forbid, they did get lost, all they had to do was scale a tree or a cliff and get their bearings off of the temple here. The forest, jungle, or whatever you might consider the growth on the island, seemed to grow right up to civilization and attempt to take over. Elforen spotted a pandaren woman bent over with a pair of sheers clipping grass and leaves away from her pavilion, and damned if the grass didn't seem to wave in irritation at her for doing it.

"Is it just me, or does everything seem a little strange here?"

His wife spoke quietly into his ear, and he nodded without looking at her. Even the air felt more real and vivid than what he was used to breathing back home. Everything had a powerful life force running through it and it was both invigorating and exhausting to think about.

They stood at the back of the tourist group, slightly reserved as they half-listened to the welcome speech, and half-made their brief shopping list while they were there. They needed food, and Zarabethe needed to buy some thick thread for repairs. As far as they could tell they were the only ones roughing it, and they didn't want to call too much attention to themselves. As soon as they found an opening, they sneaked away.

Elforen felt more than a little like an adolescent as they slipped between a large decorative bamboo and a Hozen vendor selling noodles and walked along at a fast clip away from the expedition leaders directing the tourists how to blow on a whistle if they got separated from the crowd during their guided tour.

"You got that? You blow three times."

Zarabethe's whisper barely reached his ears as they met up at a bored looking pandaren teen selling more practical camping supplies, like rope and firestarter and food that more closely resembled military rations than the hot food the other vendors were selling.

"I don't think I do. Can you demonstrate to me?"

He grabbed several packs of the rations and Zarabethe handed him a spool of heavy thread. He glanced up at her, and her eyes danced with mischief.

"That depends. Do you have something I can blow?"

Elforen tried to swallow down his snort of laughter as he paid for their purchase and handed the thread to Zarabethe. They left the vendor and headed toward the south end of the Celestial Court. He leaned over so that only she could hear him.

"I do, but I don't think it would help much if we were lost."

Zarabethe's muffled laughter rang in his ears as they made their way past a harried blood elf couple that was attempting to order food from a Jinyu. The Jinyu kept holding out different kinds of dishes, and they were shaking their heads adamantly. Their fancy mageweave robes looked completely out of place in the rustic beauty of the island anyway, and Elforen doubted they'd be able to catch their own food if they tried. In contrast, he saw Zarabethe slip ahead of him, her bow and quiver firmly attached to her back and sinuous as only one who studied with the Sentinels could be. She could survive out in the wilds for months, if not years, with only her weapons and her intellect. Her hair might not be sleek and fine in a jeweled clip, and she might not wear fancy silks or revealing attire, but her strength and her capability were what made her attractive. He jogged to keep up with her quick pace. It felt almost as if she were trying to lose him, and he fully intended to give chase.

He followed the vividness of her dark violet hair as she wove in and out of the vendors and tourists gathered at the Celestial Court, until finally they reached the edge of civilization, so to speak. He caught up to her as she paused, right at the edge of the cut grass that seemed to ruffle indignantly at how it had been tamed. Only a few yards beyond the borders the trees grew up taller and the bushes crowded in, and just beyond that, the densest part of the uncharted jungle began. She looked back at him, and her eyes were full of energy and anticipation. He grinned at her, showing all his teeth, and she took off into the trees, Dagra at her heels. With a rush of exhilaration, he followed her.

He let her take the lead for some time, going deeper and deeper into the trees. She moved in a diagonal southeast direction, zigging and zagging as if she had grown up here and knew instinctively where to go. The animal population was less farther in, as if they too avoided the thickest part of the jungle. They passed a few ruins that looked reminiscent of Pandaren architecture, but far older than it should be considering how recently the island had been discovered. He slowed his steps as he passed the crumbled residue of ancient civilization. It looked like the remnants of some kind of pagoda, its former gold and red glory reduced to bits and pieces of chipped paint. He stopped, whistling ahead so Zara could hear him. He admitted freely that he hadn't paid as much attention to the history of the southern continent as Zarabethe had, and he wasn't sure whether the symbols carved in the stone were Pandaren, Mogu, or something else entirely. He sensed Zarabethe come up beside him rather than hear it: the lush vegetation around them seemed to swallow up all sounds. She leaned forward where he was looking and ran a finger along the carvings.

"This right here is Pandaren I believe. It shows the Mogu in an unflattering light." She stopped her tracing as she got to the middle. Someone in more recent times had slashed something on top of the figures. It was deeper than the original carvings, and rough, as if made with a stone knife by someone of great strength. It was almost a perfect facsimile of the crude drawing of a tauren someone had put on the map in the flyer. Zarabethe frowned in concentration, then inspected the rest of the ruins. Between the two of them, they found a few more slashes, but no other drawings. Elforen watched as Zarabethe paused for a moment longer, tracing the

desecration of the ruins, her brow furrowed.

"I wouldn't think the yaungol would have made it over to this island," Elforen offered, taking the momentary break to swing his pack off and roll his shoulders. They had only been going for a few hours, but he was starting to feel how unused to this way of life he had gotten. He hadn't been out in full armor in years, and then only for a day or two at a time. She glanced at him before returning to her scrutinizing of the symbols.

"It doesn't make any sense chronologically, but there's something off about this entire island. I don't think it exists in a strictly linear fashion. It is possible that a small group found its way to the island hundred of years ago, which could be any amount of time on this island."

She dropped her hand and peered around into the vegetation around her. Elforen sighed and picked up his pack again, preparing himself for another hard run. "At least we'd be able to hear them coming. Yaungol and the like aren't exactly stealthy."

She caught him as he was buckling his pack on. She raised one eyebrow with just the hint of a smirk. "Already getting tired?"

"Just giving you a break. You looked like you were winded."

The jab met its intended mark, and her eyes flashed as she rounded on him. "Then you would have no problem beating me to that stone column up ahead."

He saw the column she meant just barely through the rustling trees and nearing the rocky cliffs that clustered at the far southeast corner of the island. It had to be at least fifteen miles away.

He made a show of stretching his arms above his head. "I mean, if you think you can run that far. I am fifty years younger, I wouldn't want to unfairly take advantage of you."

The look of righteous fury on her face was worth every sore muscle he was likely to have over the next few days. With a growl of frustration, she took off, and grinning, he scrambled to follow.


	4. Exploring

**Author's Notes: If these chapters would stop getting so out of control, maybe I could write this faster. Slowly but surely, though.**

 **Review Replies: Astrid: I have really had to re-invent the mystery of the island in my head to get into this space. Because obviously it would not be able to be the same place as in game, but it has to keep a lot of the elements. It's a work in progress but I hope it feels realistic to the readers.**

 **Ihsan: That is exactly what I was going for, actually: not exactly evil, just unnatural. The idea of the island is actually pretty strange, Elf and Zara's reactions are pretty similar minus the obvious one. This is 31 years post-Cataclysm, btw.**

* * *

Only a few miles into their impromptu race, and Zarabethe started regretting her pride. She would never admit it to a soul, but she had gotten sorely out of shape in the last few years of being a homebody. She remembered briefly, how she had ran almost twenty-four hours straight with very few breaks to get as far away from Tanaris as possible before her good sense caught up to her. It had been, without a doubt, one of the worst decisions of her life, but now as the humid air burned in her lungs and her legs were beginning to resemble the consistency of strawberry jam, she thought longingly of the stamina she used to possess.

The trees whipped past her in quick succession, and Dagra took the position of point just ahead of her. She ran in a half-crouch, ducking through thin branches and long needle-like leaves. The nightsabre was finally in his element: no longer surrounded by distracting people, his training was taking over and he led her through a safe path in the jungle, his nose and eyes constantly on alert for danger. She began to feel a little better about taking him along. He was obviously over his past reluctance, and moved forward swiftly and with confidence.

She took in as much of the surrounding jungle as possible as she ran faster. Vines, more ruins, startled cranes getting out of her way, a patch of darkness in the otherwise late afternoon sun, and a dilapidated well...wait. She slowed her steps, her heart pounding as she turned back to the way she came. What had that dark spot been? She paced out a widening circle, looking for a rocky crag, a ruin, an odd tree, anything that would cast a shadow. She tried to remember it: it had only been a flash, but it had startled her enough to paint the picture in her mind. There had been the usual verdant shades of green, then a space of black, and then green again. It wasn't darker green, like a shadow or a hole. It was as if something dark covered up the background for just a breath. Just long enough for her to see it. She stood still, listening. It could have been some kind of magic, or perhaps some kind of ethereal creature. Whatever it was, it didn't appear to be returning.

There was a muffled crash in the underbrush, and she whirled around just in time to see a flash of long white hair and the muted steel armor of her husband as he ran past. Cursing loudly, she took off again.

It was neck and neck the closer they got to the stone column. The trees started to thin out as they approached, and they no longer bothered to keep a distance from each other. Zarabethe's lungs burned as if they were on fire, but her legs at least had numbed to the harsh treatment she was putting them through, and she pushed herself harder, faster, until finally she was eking out a lead. She heard a breathless curse just behind her, and she made her focus zero in on her destination. Less than a mile now. She noted in a detached manner that the column didn't make a lot of sense in its surroundings: there weren't any other ruins around it, for one. It didn't seem to connect to anything. There was another column near it, and the two seemed to make a kind of path to the stark cliff that rose straight out of the small clearing and obscured view of the coastline. Dagra gave a growl in front of her, and a flash of orange and black stripes quickly vacated their path. Zarabethe panted out a laugh at the idea of the giant native tiger dashing away from a nightsabre half his size. She burst through the underbrush at full speed, Dagra seconds ahead of her. The column was only a few hundred yards away.

She heard Elforen's clomping footsteps right on her heels, and tried to put on a last burst of speed. She was the wind; she was the whisper of grass; she was the wild hawk as it flew. Her attention was so focused on seeing only the column that when the shout came from behind her, she startled and almost missed several steps. She turned to look behind her, and there was her husband, BAM, a solid mass of armor and muscle and strong hands that literally picked her up and propelled her forward with his momentum. With a terrified shriek they both slammed full speed into the column. Both of them rebounded off, and Zarabethe ended up landing hard on her backside, with Elforen stumbling backward and nearly into her lap. Zarabethe's ears rang from the impact as her husband started laughing.

"What the hell was that?"

Elforen continued to laugh as he flopped flat on the ground in exhaustion.

"I was trying to tell you to move. But that worked too."

Zarabethe blinked in rapid succession, trying to bring her vision back into focus. It felt like her eyes had impacted the inside of her skull and she scrubbed them fiercely as she tried to get her bearings back.

"Did you have to hit me so hard?"

He stopped laughing abruptly and pushed himself up so he could see her.

"Are you hurt?"

She got to her feet, determined to ignore her dizziness. "Just my pride, mostly." She put a hand on the column and pretended to examine the symbols carved into it as she fought for control of her body. Her legs were starting to scream at her now that she had stopped running, and the inside of her chest felt raw as she gulped in air as calmly as possible. As soon as she felt she wasn't showing weakness, she turned back to her husband.

"I guess call it a draw then?"

"I sure as hell am not going to call a redo." He got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair to get the grass out of it. "I am completely out of shape. Too much riding the horse to town, not enough exercise."

She nodded in agreement. "I agree. We need to do this more often, instead of spending the weekends gardening."

Elforen shrugged off his pack and dug around inside before producing both his canteen and the vague map of the island. Zarabethe followed suit, taking a drink before pouring some of the water over the back of her neck to cool off. Her husband studied the map, comparing it with their surroundings, and she stepped over to join him.

"If I'm looking at this right, I think this cliff here," he indicated the wall of rock behind them, "is the beginning of the mountain range on this side of the island. But the distances are all off."

Zarabethe chewed her lip in thought as she got another good look at the abrupt incline. It went up too sharp and bare to climb, and all she could see from here of the top was patches of vegetation.

"I'm pretty sure that no one with any mapping ability has explored enough of this part of the island to do any good."

With some reluctance, she shouldered her pack again. "Where to then? Any direction is fair game at this point."

Her husband glanced at the sky. It was still crystal blue with the disturbing edge of amber at the bottom, but the sun was getting much lower in the sky. "Let's be pro-active and find a campsite. We'll do more scouting tomorrow and actually do some hunting."

"As long as we don't race anymore."

"That was your idea, not mine." He pointed at her before turning a slow circle in front of the cliff face. "Head south then?" He indicated the right hand choice.

Zarabethe peered in that direction. It was into more vegetation, but it seemed less dense than what they had just run through. She didn't get a strange foreboding either way from the area. She briefly remembered the spot of darkness in her vision earlier and felt unsettled, but shrugged off the feeling. There was nothing there now, and if she saw anything else, she would investigate. She waved a hand into the trees.

"Lead the way, o fearless warrior."

* * *

Elforen woke abruptly, his senses on high alert. His hand was on his axe before he had even fully realized he was not asleep anymore and he sat up, breathing hard. The night was eerily quiet around him and the only things in his vision were the inside of their sparse tent and their undisturbed belongings. He took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. They had found a half-concealed ruin to shelter in for the evening right after nightfall. A beginning search of the area showed minimal animal traffic and Dagra had immediately laid down as if he were home, so they considered it as good as any place. They had shared rations, fought over who made the better campfire, and made love fiercely before falling asleep. Dagra had stayed at the door of the tent to keep watch, and Elforen could see him there now, an even darker shadow against the already dark backdrop of the jungle. He glanced around again, and slowly slid his axe back into its sheath. His nerves were still jangled, but if Dagra was asleep and nothing obvious was amiss...

He rolled over and put an arm around his wife to pull her close. She stiffened in his arms and whimpered. He sat up again and drew his hand back.

"Zara?"

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she made a noise as if she were in pain. Foregoing sensitivity, he pulled her over to her back. Her face was scrunched up and her breath was harsh as he shook her shoulder roughly.

"Zara! Wake up!"

She did not respond. He sat up on his knees, and took her face in his hands. She stiffened again, and for a moment he thought she was going to start screaming. Instead she gasped loudly and sat straight up, her eyes searching the tent wildly.

"Zarabethe," he said as gently as possible. She whipped her head around to his voice, and to his shock, bared her teeth and _growled_. He sat back abruptly. Almost instantly, her face softened, her posture melted and she brought her hands up to her face. Dagra stirred then, and nosed his way into the tent. He whined in the back of this throat as he laid down beside the bed pallet and shoved his big head into her lap.

Elforen tried again, this time with some distance in between them. "Dearest-"

"I'm sorry." Her answer was quick and quiet. She kept her eyes down in her lap as she spoke.

"I was dreaming. I didn't mean to lash out at you."

"Must have been a hell of a dream." He crawled back onto the sleeping mat and sat beside her. "May I?"

"Yes, sorry." Without meeting his eyes, she leaned over and buried her head into his chest. He put his arm around her, and got them both tucked back into bed. He held her a moment, sliding one hand through her hair, but she didn't say anything, just snuggled closer to him as if she were cold.

"What was your dream about?" He finally prodded. She shook her head against him.

"No idea. Can't remember."

Within minutes she was back to sleep. He didn't quite manage to shake the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach before he was asleep as well.

The next morning dawned bright and early, and there was only Dagra laying beside the bed instead of the door as a reminder to the events the night before. Zarabethe at least was pleasant and kissed him before getting up to get dressed, so he tried to shrug it off. People had bad dreams.

It was chilly the next morning, despite the time of year. He built the fire up as soon as he left the tent, and sat poking it with a stick moodily as Zarabethe broke some flat bread in half and passed him a piece.

"I think the first thing we need to do this morning is go hunting."

"I agree."

He vaguely indicated the direction of the jungle that spread out until it reached the shoreline. "I've seen some of those big cranes over there, by the water. I think they catch the fish that live in the shallows."

He could hear the grin in her voice as she answered him. "Can't be any harder than catching a chimaerok."

He groaned aloud as he remembered. "By Elune those things stank. I still don't even want to know what Narain's obsession was with eating them."

"Gnomes are strange."

"I remember I had to just throw a pair of pants away after that. Didn't you get it in your hair, too?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She shuddered as she wrapped her bread up and stuck it back in her pack. "I thought I was going to have to cut the whole mess off." She slipped her feet into her boots and started lacing them up. "Cranes, by contrast, do not smell, and they are so big here, they must be good to eat. We can collect eggs, as well."

Elforen had already put most of this armor on, but he started the lengthy process of checking his weaponry and arming himself. "So do you want to try setting a trap, or kill one in the more traditional way?" He slid a dagger into its hidden shoulder sheath with gusto, joined shortly by its twin on the other shoulder. Then starting from the bottom up, he continued with his arsenal. Most warriors carried a variety of weapons: after all, the mastery of all fighting styles was the mark of his trade. But Elforen took it to the letter. He armed himself so that he would never be caught in a situation without the appropriate weapon. Skinning knife? Tucked into his boot, along with hidden short daggers in the lining. Throwing weapon? A lightweight hatchet on each hip sharing a holster with a short sword. The short swords were for up close fighting, with or without his shield. He nearly did not bring his shield with him: it tended to get heavy on long trips like this and unlike the rest of this weaponry, was a little flashy. But the Royal Crest of Lordaeron had been with him since his campaign in Northrend. He had received it, along with his battalion, for his service in bringing down the Lich King. It had started out as mostly decorative: the two swords in it weren't even real. But it was a solid shield, and with some special modification, it had turned into a weapon of its own accord. The bindings were reinforced with titanium, the grip was adjusted until it was perfect, and the two dummy swords had been replaced with identical replicas that were both fully functional. Finishing up with a pair of daggers hidden underneath his chainmail shirt, he stood and strapped his battleaxe to his back. He was actually running a little light today: his mid-sized axes and an assortment of different sized knives were stashed away inside his pack just in case. But everything fit close to the skin and allowed him full movement in a confined jungle climate, and he felt pretty prepared for whatever the unexplored wilderness threw at him. He shouldered his pack, and saw Zarabethe had finished arming herself and was tightening her belt tighter. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and sighted down it into their verdant surroundings.

"I don't see why we should have to do anything fancy. It's just a bird."

Those words would come back to haunt them as they worked their way through the thick underbrush toward the coastline. Dagra scouted out ahead, Zarabethe next, and he pulled up the rear. They moved slower today, feeling out the area and making notes of landmarks. Zarabethe drew symbols and marks on the back of what they were realizing was actually a very crude map. Abandoned fishing hut. Toppled quillen statue. Two palm trees that grew together so that they formed a V in the center. A large pillar of rock that looked abnormally like a member of the male anatomy. His wife indicated that on the map with a smirk, and before she could react, he stole the stylus and drew a picture next to it. She snatched it back from him, but she left his crude drawing as they continued.

They saw plenty of wildlife as they went: mostly of the smaller variety, but just as the jungle started to thin again as they reached the far southeast coastline, some evidence of larger fauna. They even startled a small flock of cranes. Zarabethe drew an arrow back, but he caught her arm.

"Let's get a big one. Those aren't even a challenge."

She lowered her bow with a nod. Even though her mind was settling into the serious routine of hunting and cataloging, he could see the gleam of excitement in her eyes.

Along the shoreline they found some of the nesting areas of the larger cranes. These were brilliant pink in color unlike the smaller grey and white ones, and Elforen thought to himself as he paused to knock some mud off building up on his boots, that it was only their sheer size that caused them to have a major population on the island. Even in the dense foliage, their feathers stood right out.

Behind him, closer than he thought anything could sneak up on him, he heard a rustle of leaves. He whirled around, his shield already up in defense, and found himself face to face with a pair of large black beady eyes. It tilted it's head to the side in a faux intelligent manner, and slowly, so he wouldn't spook it, he reached above his shoulder to unclip his battleaxe. His sword was closer and easier to get to, but the sheer enormity of the creature in front of him made him second guess himself. His sword was like a toothpick to that bird.

"Zara!" he whispered as loudly as he dared. He sensed her come up behind him, and just as the bird raised its head to look behind him, he heard the familiar zwip as she released an arrow. The crane reared up, and he set his feet to make a killing blow. An arrow wouldn't take it down completely, but it should knock the wind out of it at least. To his surprise, the bird let out a baritone squawk, and rushed at him, _completely uninjured_. He yelped in surprise and jumped to the side. Another arrow shot past him, but it imbedded itself in the tree beside him instead of in their quarry. The crane squawked again, more angry than any kind of fear, and Elforen did the only thing he could think of: he dropped his shield.

The crane rushed him again, its beady eyes focused on tearing him apart. He flung his axe to the side, and took a flying leap onto the crane's back. He held onto its neck for dear life as it let out a strangled noise, and dashed into the trees.

Branches whipped past him as the bird tried to scrape him off its back. His vision was entirely taken up by the ruff of spindly pink feathers that protected the crane's neck. As it ran, he started to tighten his grip on its neck. He shifted slightly so that the front of its throat was in the crook of his elbow, and he flexed as tightly as he could. The crane's breathing immediately became labored: its speed lessened as it fought to take breath in around his forearm muscle. His arm burned as he tried to hold the flex against the creature's windpipe, but he was winning: soon the wind stopped blowing his hair around and the bird's steps faltered. With a massive lurch, the crane fell to the side. Its breath was only a weak gasp as he fumbled for his sword. He wished belatedly for the longer swords that were still in his shield somewhere farther back in the jungle, but he would make it work. He released the bird's neck at the same time that he drew his sword across it. Blood poured out of the wound much more vigorously than he expected. He cursed as it splashed over one arm, soaking into his bracer and through it to his shirt sleeve. Still the creature flailed about, trying to gain its feet as if it weren't leaking its lifeforce all over the green earth. Gritting his teeth, Elforen tried to ignore the flood of red as he stepped right up to the bird, and hoping that Pandaren birds were built the same as they were on Azeroth, plunged his sword into its breast. With a final messy convulsion, the crane ceased its movements.

He stood for a minute, breathing hard, making sure it didn't have some sort of weird anatomical abnormality, like a backup heart or resurrection, before he finally lowered his sword. He went to wipe sweat off his brow and remembered, in disgust, that he was covered in blood.

"Perfect," he grumbled to himself as he inspected his clothing. He'd have to take everything apart and wash it this evening before they did anything else. Zarabethe would have to butcher the bird by herself.

He had already removed his breastplate and was using whatever clean place was left on his shirt to wipe off his blade when she finally arrived. Dagra came crashing through the underbrush first, then turned immediately around and ran out. After a few moments he came back, with Zarabethe in tow. She was carrying his shield and battleaxe with her, and she looked out of breath.

"Did you really have to bathe in its blood?" she remarked as she opened her pack and fished out a spare cleaning cloth. She avoided his gaze as she handed it over, instead moving right to the crane to inspect it.

"I am a warrior, you know." He cleaned his face and hands as best he could, then retrieved his shield. He slung his breastplate over his shoulder by the arm strap. He'd have to clean the inside of it and let it dry before he put it back on. He stepped gingerly through the carnage on the ground and joined his wife as she was tying the crane carcass up securely.

"Since you already drained most of the blood, we'll just drag it behind to the campsite and butcher it there."

"So answer me this," he began, and he already saw her shoulders stiffen as he spoke.

"Did you _miss_?"

"I miscalculated."

Even though her back was to him, he could see the tips of her ears turn dark pink. He couldn't keep the smirk out of his voice as he pulled the creature's wing in so she could tie the ropes tighter.

"So you missed."

"I didn't see you take it down with one mighty stroke either."

She turned to face him and her entire face was set in indignation. She pulled the ropes tight with a yank and looped one set over her arm before handing him the other.

"I'm just saying, I have never seen you miss before."

"Maybe it's just too hard to aim around your giant head."

She refused to look at him as she set her feet and pulled on the ropes to get the bird moving. He pulled the other rope, and they started back to their base camp. They had covered about half the distance before he couldn't resist teasing her more.

"So that takes your grand total of losses this adventure up to two then? One for the race, and one for killing our supper?"

She turned and shoved her ropes into his arms. "Haul it back to camp by yourself then, smartass," she hissed, and with an angry flash of her silver eyes, she was gone. He chuckled under his breath as he looped the other rope around his arm and yanked. He probably deserved that, but it didn't mean he would stop giving her hell about missing a shot. She never missed a shot.

She was not at camp when he arrived, sweaty, and wishing for his bathing room back in their house in Elwynn forest. He took the time to hang the creature up in a tree to keep it from predators, and started the lengthy process of cleaning the blood off his armor. The cloth items he would have to either take down to the shore or he'd have to find some kind of spring to wash in.

He had all of the metal pieces hanging up to dry and was nearly done scrubbing the leather when his wife finally showed up. He saw Dagra first, then saw her enter the campsite, her eyes downcast and gripping the straps of her pack. She hung her pack beside his on the post and sat down on the log next to him.

"So I did some scouting," she started without preamble. He caught her eye, and her face was flushed but she wasn't angry anymore.

"I might have found a place to wash your clothes at. Do you think supper can wait a bit?"

Although time ran along at a strange pace here, they seemed to still have hours of daylight left. "How far is it?"

She indicated the direction of the mountain range. "Not too far. We'll have time." She stood, and offered her hand to him. He grinned as he took it. He recognized a peace offering when he saw it. She answered his smile with one of her own as she pulled him to his feet.

"Come on. This is worth the hike. Dagra, stay and guard the camp."

She led the way through the tangle of underbrush, and soon he could tell by the rocky ground that they were close to the mountain range. She made a sudden turn, and ducked under a particularly dense patch of vines, and disappeared. He followed, and on the other side of the curtain of green he saw the barest minimum of a path that led right up into the rocky crag that rose up before them. It had to be no more than an animal path: it was barely wide enough for them to climb up single file, and he had to grip the rocks to not lose his balance.

"Where are we going?" He tried not to yell too loud: they were particularly vulnerable in this position.

"You'll see." He shook his head and followed, his curiosity piqued.

The farther they traveled up the side of the mountain, the more the path widened. By the time it was starting to level out and join the ridge, Elforen could see her reason for coming up here.

The sky above the Timeless Isle had looked a little strange ever since they arrived. Even forgetting the color, which was disconcerting enough, the atmosphere managed to look thicker than regular air. It lent an air of surreality to the entire island, as if reality was a little unsure how it wanted to exist in this space. But as they finally emerged at the top of the ridge, and Elforen took in a deep breath of sulphur and other minerals, he thought he might understand at least part of the reason why it looked this way.

Zarabethe was waiting for him at the top, and she turned to him with her finger on her lips before taking his hand and leading him on further.

"We are near the wind serpent nesting grounds." Her whisper was quiet enough to be only heard by his ears. She pointed to the mountainous peak that was closest to them. He could see flashes of sinuous red and gold as the dragons wound around the tops of them, much closer than he would normally choose to get to them.

"Uh, Zara-"

She stopped him with a hand on his mouth. She shook her head, and led him away from the peaks, down into a secluded basin at the far side of the ridge. The fog was getting thicker, and he could taste the humidity on his tongue. It was bitter and salty, but not the salt of the sea. This was something harsher, and it felt like it was cleansing some of the exhaustion out of his body. He inhaled deeply. Ahead of him his wife carefully navigated around a jutting crag and finally, their destination was in view.

Tucked into the smaller craters around the mountain ridge, were a series of hot springs. The steam they produced rose into the air and made everything in the distance looked wobbly. Zarabethe pulled him right up to the first spring, and the heat coming off if it was nearly stifling.

"I think the wind serpents are attracted to the warmth. There are more springs up at the top, but from what I can see, they are bigger and impossible to navigate. The serpents don't have nests down here."

Elforen crouched down and dipped his fingertips into the water. It was pleasantly warm, but not too hot, and whatever minerals were in the water didn't burn his skin.

"So," he began, glancing up at his wife slyly, "do you want to try it out with me?"

She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against a rock. "I might."

He sat down on the nearest flat spot and started to unlace his boots. "You might not want to go in wearing all that, though." He indicated her leather armor. He was rewarded by a flush in her cheeks as she stood up and started pulling at the lacing of her chestpiece. He purposefully turned around and gave her her space as he removed himself of his boots, shirt, and pants, along with a small pile of concealed weapons. He heard a snort behind him.

"Are you sure you found them all?"

He stood and caught her about the shoulders. She was in the process of unlacing her shirt and he took the strings from her and loosened them. He pulled her shirt over her head slowly, grinning at her wolfishly as soon as her face was clear.

"I think I might have missed one."

"You're terrible," she countered, but her voice was a little too rough to be convincing. He kissed her languidly, pulling her back with him as he started into the pool. The hot water hitting the soles of his feet was jolting, but it quickly turned pleasurable as he went further in. He submerged waist deep, feeling his leg muscles relax finally from the workout they had been through this trip. Extraneous activities aside, that was worth the climb up the mountain. He reached up and tugged at the waistband of his wife's pants.

"You forgot something."

"I was getting there!" She laughed breathlessly. With typical Zara-like efficiency, she divested herself of the rest of her garments and stepped into the pool. He took her hand and led her in, grinning at her gasps as the hot water hit her. They quickly turned to sighs as she submerged to her shoulders.

"I think I could stay here the rest of the trip." She stood back up, shaking water off her arms. She started to pull the pins out of her hair, and he joined her, reaching around her to help take down her hair, keeping her body flush with his. He kissed her temple, then her jawline, and moved down her neck, unable to keep from chuckling at the noises she was trying not to make in her throat. He nipped her lightly on the shoulder and she moaned before catching herself.

"Stop, at least let me get my hair down first."

"I don't think you want me to stop." He obliged by running his fingers through her woven braids, shaking them out until her hair fell into soft violet waves down her back. She sighed in contentment as he combed through her hair, relaxing fully against him.

"No, not really."

Grinning, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and kissed her again.


	5. Waking Dream

**Author's Notes: This might be the only update before Halloween, as I have two tons of sewing to do. There is an illustration up on dA.**

 **Review Reply: No, it isn't Elf.**

* * *

 _The crane was right there. She could easily sight it down the length of her arrow. She didn't even have to think._

 _Her target was gone. Everything was gone. Something was in front of her vision completely._

 _The crane was there again. Her husband was in front of it. He was whispering to her to shoot it. She could hear him clearly._

 _They were both gone. The blackness laughed at her, taunted her with its completeness._

 _They were there again. They were in relatively the same position. Immediately she drew back an arrow and fired._

 _Everything faded out again. It was instantaneous, but it didn't fade out completely this time: only a thin black sheet covered everything. Was she winning the fight? Was she stronger than whatever was attacking her?_

 _The crane squawked loudly and charged her husband. She must have missed. Desperate, she drew back another arrow and fired before her vision left her again. She was able to see the arrow hit a tree uselessly before the blackness hit her again, solidly this time. She fell limply back, not even catching herself as her body impacted the grass._

Fighting her way out of the dream was hard. Just like the night before, she felt as if her dreamscape surrounded her with a membrane that she had to tear her way through to reach reality. She was at least prepared for it this time: instead of helplessly witnessing the events scroll through her brain over and over until she was too emotional to think, she starting working her way out immediately. She broke through and sat up with a gasp.

It was still full dark. Her sense of time had been skewed since she stepped foot on the island, but It felt like the darkest part of the night, a few hours before daybreak. Slowly her heart slowed its fast paced as she looked around. There was nothing out of place in their tent. Dagra had been asleep at their feet, but he had lifted his head when she woke. He was completely relaxed, though. Her husband was still asleep beside her, his hair all a mess and one arm flung up over his head. There wasn't even a sense that something was watching them.

Gently, she smoothed Elforen's hair back from his face. He murmured, but otherwise remained asleep. Carefully, she slid out of the covers. It bothered her from somewhere deep in the back of her head that she could still do that; that she could remove herself from bed without her husband noticing. She took her hooded cloak as she unlaced the opening of the tent and slipped outside. She left her boots inside, though. Silently, Dagra got up to follow her.

The air outside the tent was thick with the humidity and life of the island. Unlike the late summer of back home, a chill permeated her thin nightclothes and she pulled her cloak on. She wasn't going far, after all: she just needed to move. She needed to walk this restless feeling out of her feet and put her head to rights. She dug her toes into the soil as she walked and it kept the feeling of dissociation at bay. Her feet were on the ground: she was on the ground. She rubbed her thumb against her forefinger and by the time she reached the tree she had her eye on, it had grown into a tapping. It was slow, it was rhythmic, it was the sound of her heart beating in her chest and her nearly-silent footfalls among the foliage. She was present. She was fine. Dreams were fine. Even if the dreams took her memories and slid them around like water until she couldn't remember which event had actually happened and which was an exaggeration by her mind. The last thought started to catch her, but she put her hands on the rough bark of the tree and started to climb, and that calmed her again. Climbing hand over hand, she made it several branches up until she found a solid one she could crouch on. She settled down on it, on her toes and haunches, and watched the trees around them.

The jungle was quiet at night. There were traces of birds and creatures, but it was far less than what she would have expected for the activity during the day. Down below Dagra whined as he paced back and forth in front of the tree, but eventually decided to lie in front of it than try to scale the thin branches. That suited her fine: she didn't want anything up here but the chill against her cheek, the thick smell of the jungle below, the wind ruffling her hair.

Elforen found her that way, hours later. She heard him call for her, but she didn't answer. She was watching the sun rise, watching the earliest rays burst across the deep purple and green shadows of the foliage and it was beautiful. More than that, she had spent the entire night wrapped in shadows. If any wayward, semi-sentient dark spots were to pass through, she would miss them. She wanted to confirm, in bright daylight, that they had just been a figment of her imagination fueled out of control in her dreams. As the new light filtered into the shadows around her, scrubbing them out and lighting up the jungle, she took a deep breath. There was no indication of the darkness from before. She must have, as much as she was loathe to admit it, just missed.

"Zarabethe!"

"Here."

She unwound herself from the crouched position she had held for literally hours now and peered down below. Even from up here she could see how upset he was.

"I have been calling you for over an hour, all around this tree. Were you asleep?"

"Sorry." For some reason it took a monumental amount of effort to throw off the intense fugue she had been in and focus on reality. She needed to get out of the tree. It was time to get everything ready for the day. And at some point, she should probably explain herself.

"Were you-did I upset you somehow?"

He reached a hand up to help her down the final few feet and her first impulse was to snatch her hand back. Almost immediately she made herself reach down and grasp his hand and let him pull her down beside him. He kept a hand in her waist and she made an enormous effort to ignore how it made her skin crawl. What was wrong with her this morning? His silence was not a comfortable one and she wracked her brain for an answer.

"I was lost in thought. I am sorry." It was a terrible answer and she knew that he knew by the way his mouth tightened up at the corners.

But try as she might, she had no real reason why she had just spent several hours awake, staring into the oblivion.

They arrived back at camp without incident, Dagra bouncing along ahead of them. Elforen made to go build up the fire, and she grabbed his arm.

"Wait."

Even though it strange to do so, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"I wasn't hiding from you. I'm sorry for worrying you."

His shoulders visibly relaxed. He brought his hand up to brush against her cheek and she had to bit her lip to keep from flinching. Light damn it she had to keep her impulses in check.

"If you need to be by yourself, I understand, just let me know, alright?"

She nodded, grateful that the movement dislodged her hand. After he turned away she swiped a hand across her face. If her touch aversion was going to flare up for no reason, this trip just got that much harder. Determinedly she wiped her hands down her shirt and went to change. She would make it work. She wasn't going to ruin the trip for Elf just because of her strange anxieties.

* * *

Despite the strange start to the morning, once they got going things went smoothly. Zarabethe was quiet, but that was not really out of the ordinary at all. Elforen snuck a look at her as they navigated through a particularly dense group of bamboo. She moved with confidence and her face was set with determination. He attempted to shrug off his feeling of unease. She often disappeared to be alone at home. In fact when he woke to find her missing this morning, he wasn't worried at all. He paced a widening perimeter of the campsite, watching for signs of life and calling her name. He found Dagra, and assumed she was in that tree, or at least close by. But when she didn't respond to him calling her, and he circled the tree with no response, he started to panic. What if an animal had gotten her? what if she had gotten stuck somewhere and couldn't answer? By the time she finally revealed herself, he was starting to move past basic worry and into the darkest thoughts. What if she had left him here? What if she had finally decided to continue what she had started thirty-two years ago and abandon their family forever?

He stopped abruptly and shook his head. No, he was going to stop that train of thought right now. He had had thoughts like those for years: that one day he would wake up in the bed they shared and she would simply be gone. Then Genne had come, and they stuck through it, then Kalibose had been lost, and they stuck through it. Then they had gotten married officially and much of his anxiety had finally eased away. It was just the strangeness of this place. It was getting to him.

"Elf!"

She had gotten quite a bit ahead of him. he could barely see her in the dense strands of green that were threatening to envelope them, but he could tell she had stopped and was gesturing him to come closer. He hurried his pace, and when he reached where she was holding the bamboo back for him to see, all other thoughts left his head.

"It's...a pandaren village? Way out here?"

Zarabethe nodded. "I know, it doesn't make any sense."

He pushed past her, through the gap she had made in the bamboo, and tried to get a better look. It wasn't a large village, less than fifteen straw huts and structures. There was a wide, well-worn path down the middle that circled a fountain, then led down to the shoreline and an almost concealed dock. All of that wasn't strange at all, but there had been no mention of a native village in the brochure, either to advertise amenities or warn people away. In fact it had been stressed that there was no civilization at all beyond the Celestial Court.

The strangest thing about it all though, wasn't the pandaren men stringing up fish and the women cooking, and the cubs running underfoot. It was that every single person didn't seem to realize at all that they were in the middle of a dense jungle on an isolated island. And none of them had so much as glanced his way.

"It's a fishing village." Zarabethe slipped up beside him. She had an arrow out and on the string, but her bow was pointed at the ground. "I have no idea why, though."

"Look at this."

He picked up a small piece of shale, and skipped it right into the midst of three pandaren women gossiping while doing the laundry. They didn't acknowledge the stone, even though it rolled right up to and then _through_ their washtub.

Zarabethe made a noise of surprise and stepped past him, until she was standing right in front of the trio. She waved a hand right in between them. They ignored her completely.

"They are trapped between worlds." As Elforen approached them, Zarabethe waved a hand right through the nearest woman. She didn't even look up, just laughed at something her companion said and wrung out a shirt before hanging it up. The closer he got he realized that they had a slight shimmer about them, as if they were not entirely in this world. He couldn't resist waving a hand in front of one woman's face, although he declined putting a hand through them.

"Do you think they are dead?"

"I have no idea." Zarabethe started down the path that led through town. She avoided the ethereal pandaren as much as possible. Dagra slunk through after her as if he thought this was the worst idea in the world.

"I guess, to them, it doesn't matter. They are continuing on whether they are alive or not."

There had been feelings and creatures on the Timeless Island that had made him uneasy before, but as he strode carefully through the village locked away from time and reality, nothing had been flat out creepy like this village was. There were children here that would never grow up. There were adults who would never leave. Were the fish in there with them? Did they repeat the same day over and over or did they follow along their own timeline? Would there ever be an end or at least a continuation of their story?

A shout came from the pier sitting by the shore. Already on edge, Elforen turned that way, his short sword and shield at the ready. An older pandaren man wearing a floppy hat and waving a fishing pole around ecstatically was obviously yelling for his friends to come see what he had caught. Elforen felt a pricking feeling along his spine. The water started to churn in the ocean just beyond the jutting dock and beside him Dagra flattened his ears against his skull and whined.

"This, this is just part of the illusion, right?"

Zarabethe's hesitant voice did nothing to calm his feelings of trepidation. He took a step in front of his wife instinctively as the ghost pandaren around them began to run in fear back to their huts. The water churned more violently at the end of the dock, and Elforen could actually feel the spray kicked up by whatever was beneath the surface, could smell the saltiness and fish smell of the water. His answer was so low it blended with the rumble of the earth.

"This is no illusion."

He started forward, Zarabethe and Dagra behind him. The pandaren were in no danger: although they ran away as if afraid, they were ethereal. Even if they were about to be injured, they couldn't be saved. He wove his way swiftly through them until he was standing right at the dock. The water churned even more violently, he could feel the vibration of it through his metal-tipped boots and the spray was wetting his hair. He heard his wife move around into position behind him on the right side. He set his shoulder behind his shield, and drew one of his long swords. He really had no idea what was kind of eldritch horror was about to emerge from the depths, but they were ready.

With a roar that shook the trees, a creature burst out of the water as if it were escaping confinement. Elforen jumped back in spite of himself. the sea creature was huge. It had large bulbous eyes set on the side of its heads, spiky fins on its head and all the way down its thick neck. it didn't have much in the way of arms, just stubby things with fins at the end, and no legs that he could see. If nothing else it appeared to be strictly a water creature, which was a small relief considering half its face opened up in a gaping maw filled with pointed teeth.

Behind him Zarabethe cursed creatively enough to make his brother proud. He half-chuckled as he tipped his head her way.

"Think we can handle-"

The rest of his sentence died on his lips. She wasn't looking at the monster that had spawned out of the sea in front of them. She squinted at the shoreline, shook her head, squinted again, then cursed again. With the back of the arm holding her arrow, she rubbed it across her eyes furiously. Elforen glanced back over at their opponent. While they were distracted, the creature had found the pandaren fisherman who had pulled him up. Whether the pandaren was ethereal or not, apparently he still made a good lunch. Elforen flinched as the pandaren was chewed up and swallowed right in front of them. He took a step back to Zarabethe, but still in range of the creature.

"Zarabethe! What's wrong?"

"Nothing! There's-there's something in my eyes!"

He risked a glance backward. She met his gaze but something in it was wrong. It took longer than the glance warranted for him to realize belatedly that _her eyes were not the right color_. She glared at him and then back to the sea monster.

"Are we going to kill this thing or what?"

She set an arrow to her string, and shaking her head again, fired.

Elforen watched the arrow fly true to its target and hit it dead center. Unfortunately, its target seemed to have been one of the tall palm trees right in front of the creature. Elforen could almost feel the indignation coming in waves off his wife as she darted forward and fired again. This time she hit it directly between the eyes. It roared in irritation instead of pain, and Elforen let his warrior instincts take over. He charged forward, and within moments was engaging the sea creature.

Fighting the creature was not hard. It's stubby fins were obviously meant for swimming and not combat. He deflected them easily as he tested his sword against its underbelly. The skin was soft enough there: his sword penetrated easily up to the hilt. The layer of blubber under its skin protected its organs, however. He would need something of considerable length to reach the proper depth.

He heard his wife cry out in warning at the same time that the creature flexed backward, and without even thinking, he threw himself to the side. He hit the ground hard on his right shoulder, and kept rolling. Far closer than he was comfortable with, the creature slammed its face onto the ground, tearing up chunks of earth as it tried to consume the prey that had been there moments before. Elforen did not wait for it to rectify its mistake and scrabbled to his feet, kicking up mud as he got as far away as quickly as possible. Zarabethe had taken up a point position on a rocky crag several yards away, and he headed there. Behind him the creature thrashed and roared, but it did not leave the safety of the water. his wife had the heel of her hand pressed against her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut, but she straightened up as he approached. As much as he didn't believe her for an instant that there was nothing wrong, right now they had bigger problems.

"I think we need to re-think this."

She nodded once, her expression tight. He continued on, his mind going miles ahead. There were palm trees along the shoreline, and the dock was in the way, but there was a hole in the natural windbreak just to the right of the creature. Just big enough to let it through. He reached up and patted her boot to get her attention.

"Come on, we can't lose its attention."

He took off at a zigzag toward the open section of shore. The ground grew more sandy and wet as he advanced and threatened to suck his feet in and trip him up, but he ran as lightly as one wearing plate mail could. He heard Zarabethe leap off the rock and follow him. The sea creature was looking for them. Its eyes were huge, but it didn't seem to see well in the brightness of daylight and wobbled back and forth like a blind man. He bent and picked up a large lose rock without slowing down.

"Hey!" he shouted, and lobbed the rock to the side of him. The creature turned his way, but when it dove teeth-first into the sand expecting to make an Elforen-sized meal, it was in the direction of the rock he through. He nodded to himself as they approached the break in the trees. He slowed his steps as he turned to his wife.

"It can hear better than it sees, and it feels vibrations better than that. Do you think you can piss it off?"

She nodded curtly, but her face was hesitant. He glanced back at the creature as it scrabbled along the ground where the rock had been thrown.

"I will need to get closer."

She didn't quite meet his eyes as she said this, and he didn't dwell on it. "Make sure you line up with the break in the trees. We are going to lure it on to shore."

She startled visibly and beside them Dagra gave a panicked whine at the creature. "Are you sure that's the best course of action? We don't have a weapon that can penetrate its blubber."

"We don't have to." He picked up a rock and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the monster on its side and it roared in anger as it snuffled for its attacker.

"It's obviously a deep sea creature. It can't see, it can only hear so well, and it senses through vibrations. It doesn't have any kind of appendages to walk with and its ridiculously big. We get it up on the shore," he indicated the break in the trees where they now stood, "and it will collapse under its own weight. Just like a whale shark or some other creature meant only for water."

"Effective." She dashed ahead of him to stand in the break, right next to the water. With only a slight shake of her head, she lined up an arrow and fired. It only grazed the creature, but it was enough to get its attention. Elforen picked up a rock and hurled it into the water right beside it. It dove at the rock immediately, thrashing in the shallows. The combination of the two worked: it had moved closer to them. Elforen waved a hand behind him.

"Stay here."

He waded out into the water. It was shallow for the first few yards, before the abrupt drop off that obviously went down into the depths far deeper than he would have assumed. Immediately the creature stopped its thrashing and turned his way. He bent straight down into the silty water at this feet, soaking his head, and came back up with another rock. He stepped closer to the drop off, until he was almost chest deep in sea water.

He bared his teeth at the creature. "Come and get me, you bastard," and then he threw the rock right into its face.

With an angry sound louder than any it had made so far, the creature flopped sideways into the sea. Elforen backpedaled as fast as he could, and then simply turned and ran. It was fast in deep water, even faster than he had thought it would be. It would be on him in seconds, if he didn't have a plan.

"Shoot it!" He waved frantically at the shoreline where Zarabethe was squinting into the ocean behind him. She lined up an arrow and let it fly. It zinged past him, far closer than he was really comfortable with, and hit the water. He slogged through the water as fast as he could as the creature advanced on him at breakneck speed.

"Shoot it again!"

This time she hit it just as its head surfaced, going directly through the crest on the top of its head. It roared in pain, and its thrashing about gave him enough time to make it to the shallowest part of the sea and relative safety. He turned, keeping his feet in the water, and picked up another rock. He flung it at the creature, hitting it on its face, and the creature stopped crashing about and wobbled its head as it looked for the tiny things that was hurting it. Elforen stomped in the water. With an immense heave of its body, the creature threw itself at him.

Zarabethe let out a terrified shriek as the both of them ran further up the shore to avoid numerous sets of gnashing teeth and the consequent tidal wave that ensued. The creature did not stop in shallows but dug its stubby fins into the surf and propelled its way up onto the shore. It again, moved much faster than Elforen had anticipated and he felt his legs burn as he struggled against his wet clothes and armor to get to a safe distance. Ahead of him he saw Zarabethe turn and shoot in one movement without stopping her retreat, and the monster's cry of frustration in answer.

It only took a few minutes once it was out of the water. Its breathing grew harsher with each passing second. It flailed about more than made any kind of distance, and its movements grew weaker until finally it stopped. It laid on it side and gasped for air, not trying to reach them, not trying to get back to the water. Zarabethe shot it again, directly into the side of its neck, and although it flinched, the roar it gave was weak and it didn't struggle to get away. Elforen took his longest sword and cautiously trudged right up to the creature. Its eyes were already glazed over, and it didn't sound long for this world either way. He was doing it a favor at this point. He ran the sword down the torn crest on its head, until it reached the joint between its skull and its spine, He angled the sword upward, and plunged it in to the hilt. It shook violently, nearly throwing him off in its death-throes, then lay still. He pulled his sword out of it, and grimaced at the ichor coating it. He took several steps backward to find a clean patch of grass, and cleaned it off the best he could. With his dip into the ocean, he would have to wash everything tonight. Again.

"Well that was anticlimactic."

Her voice was casual as she stepped up beside him to examine the dead creature, but he was done being fooled. Wiping his hands on his cloak, he gestured to her.

"Come here."

He took her face in his hands without asking. This close he could see her minuscule flinch, but he did not relinquish as he stared into her eyes. They were red-rimmed and stared out at him in apprehension, but they were every bit the silver that they had always been.

"What's going on with you?"

He could see the lie in her face as she tried to look to the side. "I had something in my eyes. Sand, salt water, I'm not sure, but it obscured my vision."

"You are not telling me the entire truth." He kept hold of her as her eyes widened. She took a ragged breath.

"I-I do not know the entire truth."

This at least he could tell was honesty. She was scared of something. She blinked, but met his gaze fully.

"When I figure this out, I will tell you. I promise."

"I will hold you to it."

He let go of her. She stumbled back from him as if he had been violent, and he tried to ignore it as he shouldered his shield and turned back to camp. Somewhere inside him his stomach twisted to know that he had caused the panic in her eyes.

More important than that though, was the fact that he wasn't wrong. Something had been going on since they stepped foot on this island, and even if he wasn't sure what it was yet, he was going to find out.

Either with Zarabethe's consent or not.


End file.
